Two Bad Bosses_An MFM Menage Romance

by Sierra Sparks

  But then the box arrived.

  A day of menial work and a conservative amount of customers resulted in cutting the bakery’s hours of operations short for the day. While we closed, Sheila alerted me that a box had been left at the door.

  “Should we open it? What if it’s a bomb? You remember the unabomber? What if he’s back? Should we call the cops?”

  “Calm down, Sheila”, I insist. “It’s not the unibomber for a… number of reasons.”

  She hesitates. “Still, do you think it’s safe?”

  “Of course it’s safe. I’ll open it. Geez.”

  I swing the glass door open and lean over the box to give it a quick glance before opening. It’s thin and long, wrapped in an appealing purple paper with golden stars, all held together with a thin black ribbon.

  “A bit too fancy for a bomb, don’t ya think?”

  “Or is it fancy enough to fool people into thinking it’s not a bomb?”

  Upon opening it, I find a red maxi dress with a card on top. The card contains a ticket to an opera. I kinda wish it had been a bomb. Being blown up may have been a bit more enjoyable than being blown back into the emotional hole I was stuck in.

  Sheila opens her eyes which she had pressed tightly closed half-expecting to be blown to bits.

  “That’s from your guy, isn’t it”, Sheila rhetorically asks.

  “Unless you’re seeing a rich guy who doesn’t know how to apologize with words.”

  “No… for a number of reasons, but that’s a story for another time.”

  He really thinks that this is an adequate apology. An expensive dress and a ticket to a show I’m bound to fall asleep at. No note. No actual apology. My forgiveness can’t be bought. And I have very little interest in seeing someone who thinks of me as nothing more than a sex doll. There’s only one reasonable thing to do with a gift from someone who has wronged you.

  “Into the trash you go”, I sing, picking the box up.

  “What”, Sheila shouts. “You’re not at least going to take the dress? It’s a nice, expensive looking dress.”

  She makes a good point. I could add the dress to my inventory and maybe sell the opera ticket online. There’s no real reason for this go in the trash. It was a gift after all. Sheila and I close the store and go our separate ways. In the car, I think hard about what to do with Declan’s gift. I look in my rear view mirror to make sure he’s not following me or doing something creepy like Christian Grey would and find myself to be alone on the road. Thankfully. So he’s not creepy and has no way of knowing what I did with the gift.

  Maybe I’ll even attend the opera.

  Not as an acceptance of his lame apology, but in order to see him face to face and find out exactly what he wants from me. I’m not in the business of being dicked around by a spoiled kid with too much money than he knows what to do with. If he wants to see me, he better be ready to explain exactly what he intends to do as far as a relationship with me goes. The last thing I need to have my time wasted. I’ve done enough of that escaping a social life by caring more about my business.

  Chapter 5 - Declan

  The show is about to start.

  There was no need for me to be so presumptuous about her appearance tonight but… a dress and a ticket to one of the most exclusive shows to get into should be enough to get her interested in seeing me another time. She should be here.

  As people settle in their seats, I hear shuffling behind me. People trying to see if they can sneak their way into the private boxes, or if they can bribe the usher. But I gave that usher very specific instructions to only let one person through. Besides, he shouldn’t allow anyone up here that doesn’t have a ticket for it, that’s just his job, so I should hope that my instructions were nothing too outside of the ordinary for him.

  I paid too much for these seats.

  I should have bought tickets to whatever hit movie is out right now. Who likes opera? I sure as hell don’t. I figured she’d be more enticed to see me again if I treated her out to a night filled with culture and exclusivity but the fact that she’s not here yet is making me think I needlessly threw money down the drain.

  “Right this way, ma’am”, the usher whispers.

  The usher parts the red curtains behind me and allows Callie entry to the private box. She’s wearing the red dress I gifted her. And she looks as spectacular as I thought she would. I quickly wipe away the beads of sweat that were starting to take shape on my forehead and welcome her in a volume much higher than intended. The usher asks me to keep my voice down, to which I quietly nod, looking fairly embarrassed.

  Callie doesn’t say anything. She just nods and sits down next to me.

  The audience below us clap as the curtains are drawn to reveal three members of the cast of this opera.

  “Thank you for coming”, I whisper.

  I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand to a point as I wait for Callie’s first word of the night. It stays that way as I watch her lips remain closed and her head nod in response. I take a deep, quiet breath and accept that she may have just accepted the gift as an excuse to see an opera for what I assume would be the first time. Not much time passes until I start panicking a little.

  I’m speechless. The right thing for me to do is apologize but I can’t bring myself to do it. There isn’t anything for me to apologize for, really, since all I did was offend her by stating my true intentions, albeit at a poorly timed moment.

  My foot starts tapping the floor. I shoot a quick glance and see that the tapping is starting to annoy her. I make myself stop but instead of my foot, my fingers start bouncing on the arm rests.

  “Are you going to be like this throughout the entire show”, she whispers without making eye contact with me. “Will you relax?”

  Relax? I’m relieved that she’s finally broken her silence but I’m far from relaxed. She seems more irate than she should be. Or more so than I think she should be.

  “What, you’re into opera”, I ask trying to seem more relaxed.

  “I don’t know yet. This is my first time at an opera, but I’d like to make an opinion if the rest of the show isn’t scored by you tapping your feet or your fingers.”

  I know this would be her first opera. Still, I have to calm down. Not just appear calm. We’ll have a chance to talk during the intermission. We have a bit over an hour before then and I can use that time to find the words she needs to hear. Acting like an over confident playboy isn’t going to work this time around. But there may be the possibility that she’ll want to do some talking first. She’s clearly got a lot on her mind and some minor animosity towards me which may need to come out before I can say anything.

  I’ll have to listen to every single word she says before I can say anything in retort.

  The opera drags on long enough for me to regret ever learning about them, and for the intermission to finally commence. I turn to Callie but her seat is empty. She walked out during the applause.

  I run out to the hallway and find her, not walking away from the private box, but leaning against the wall right next to it.

  “So… who should go first”, she asks.

  “Uh, ladies first”, I offer. My nerves are getting the best of me, and I’m coming off as more of a little bitch than I intend.

  “Smart choice. ‘Cause I have quite a few things to say and ask. Firstly, what is this? The dress, the tickets?”

  I stutter, “it’s… I’m apologizing.”

  Callie chuckles and shakes her head. “No, no, no, Declan. That’s what most people would call a bribe. See, I’m not easy to bribe. I’ve been lucky enough to get by pretty easily, and don’t have a want for many things. I have dresses. One of the few, or only things I’ve found myself wanting as of late, is a relationship. You made me think I was going to end up in one only to shoot me down. So, if you’re going to apologize, say it.”

  “I… I’m sorry, but I just didn’t want to lead you on”, I tell her truthfully.

  “That�
��s not an apology. And I’m guessing you’re not apologizing because you don’t even realize what you did wrong. So, if that was an apology, it’s not one I’ll be accepting.”

  Taking a deep breath, I pick at my brain for an appropriate response. “I am sorry. I am. I hurt you and there’s no excuse for that. What I did was poorly timed and worded badly. But I didn’t want to not see you again.”

  Treading carefully, I reach for Callie’s hand and hold it with both of mine. She doesn’t pull away.

  “For the past year, I’ve thought that I can’t handle a relationship. I was hurt before and wanted to avoid feeling that kind of pain again. Sex is easy for me. And one night stands keep me from being hurt. But I felt something with you, Callie. Something I haven’t felt in a long time. I should have chased after you that night, but I didn’t because I thought I could just forget about you. But I can’t. I’ve been trying to do exactly that all week and I have been unsuccessful, for better or worse.”

  Callie continues to avert my eyes until I step directly in front of her and look deep into her eyes. She looks back at me with reflective, watery eyes.

  “If you decide to forgive me, I would like granted the opportunity to treat you better than I did before.”

  Though I didn’t expect it, Callie cracks a smile.

  “That’s an apology”, she jokes. “And… one I can accept.”

  The theater lights flash signaling the intermission’s end. Callie and I return to our seats and sit much more comfortably than before. Any thick tension between us disappeared when we exited the hallway and returned to our pricy seats with a perfect view of the stage. During the performance, Callie leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. I moved over to make her more comfortable and to grab hold of both of her hands.

  “Would it be rude to fall asleep”, she asks.

  “Maybe. But I don’t think you’ll be doing much sleeping. The big lady just walked out onto stage again and if there’s anything I know about opera, it’s that the big ladies tend to be the loudest.”

  This makes Callie chuckle, but it fails to dissuade her from resting her head on me and closing her eyes.

  An hour later, we walk out of the theater having entirely opposite opinions of the show we just watched. Callie seemed to have enjoyed the entire show, despite having been asleep for the second half. Whereas I found it quite droll and am now convinced that opera is not my go-to way of spending a night.

  “Callie”, I ask, “would you be interested in a late night dinner date?”

  “Sure. But I pick.”

  I’m directed to a spot I’m very familiar with. It’s a restaurant I have visited on many dates with my former girlfriend. A gastro pub praised for its burgers and selection of wines to pair those burgers with. Despite the joint’s high prices, I feel we are far overdressed for this place. But it was Callie’s choice and I should respect it.

  “How did you find out about this place? It’s kind of out of the way from your bakery, isn’t it?”

  Callie shrugs. “Family get-togethers. They don’t happen often but whenever they do, they’re usually here. Do you come here often?”

  “I used to. With my--”

  Speak of the devil and she shall appear, they say. I can’t be sure of it, but I could have sworn that Miranda was in the establishment. But it couldn’t be possible. What are the odds that she would be here? Why would she come back to this place, knowing it was one of my favorite places to grab a burger. In hopes to find me and brag about her life since we went our separate ways? She would be petty enough to do that. That bitch.

  “With”, Callie asks, hoping to hear the end of my sentence sometime this century.

  I shake myself out my thoughts, but take a moment to make sure that what I saw was a mirage and nothing more. Thankfully, no sign of her actually being there. Just a horrible trick my own mind played on me.

  “Just a few old friends I haven’t seen in a while”, I finally say. “I haven’t seen much of anyone so just being back here took me on a quick trip down memory lane.”

  For whatever reason, Callie uncharacteristically doesn’t ask more on the subject. I was expecting an interrogation of who those friends were, why I hadn’t seen them in such a long time, but I suppose sitting through three hours of loud singing could drain somebody. It definitely drained me enough to start seeing visions.

  Some fancy wine and a pair of overpriced burgers later, I drive Callie back to my place. Callie seems a bit buzzed even though she had the same, miniscule amount of alcohol I had.

  “Thank you for the night out, Declan. And for your apology. As mad as I’ve been at you, I really didn’t want to stop seeing you. Even though that’s what I told everyone.”

  Everyone? Seems odd that she’s been talking to people about me but still doesn’t seem to even hint at knowing about my past. But if she’s been discussing me, I don’t see how the people she’s talking to don’t bring up who it is she’s seeing. Everything was covered on the news, magazines, blogs. I’m still surprised that she herself doesn’t know more about me. It’s not like bakers are shut-ins. But that’s a conversation for another time.

  “I didn’t want to stop seeing you either”, I tell her, hoping that I didn’t spend too much time in my own head before responding.

  Despite being parked in front of my home, Callie reclines her seat and closes her eyes.

  “Going to sleep”, I ask, genuinely curious.

  “I’m just so comfortable right now. Really comfortable.”

  So comfortable, in fact, that she spreads her legs and lightly traces her fingers on her thighs. The more she spreads her legs, the higher her dress rides up, getting dangerously close to showing the underwear she may or may not be wearing.

  “I don’t want to go to sleep”, she says in a breathy voice, “unless I have someone to curl up with. Know anybody who’d be interested?”

  Chapter 6 - Callie

  I shouldn’t be doing this. Earlier today I was debating whether or not I wanted to see Declan and now I have him inside of me. I’m not drunk, but I’m definitely buzzed enough to be more reckless than I would be were I sober. I’ll admit, I’m enjoying every bit of it but I feel as though I shouldn’t be.

  Sex with Declan is amazing. It was perfect the first time, and this time might even top that. But I feel like I’m rewarding him without him having done much to deserve a reward.

  He has done the bare minimum to repair the damage he had done last time we hooked up, and I’m still allowing him to take me to his place, undress me, and use my body as if nothing had happened. To reiterate, it’s not that I don’t want to be having sex with him, but I may have pressed on the gas pedal much faster than I should have, and having my inhibitions lowered isn’t helping.

  Declan isn’t bothered by anything though. He’s enjoying me and very clearly showing me how much he missed me. His fingers pull on my skin desperately as he delves deeper between my legs. He’s been wanting me since I left his bed and I can feel it. When we first had sex, it was my first time being with someone sexually and the intensity I exuded was reflective of that. This time around, it seems as though Declan is the one losing his virginity.

  He screams at every thrust, like some sort of animal. The force with which he’s holding on to me makes me wetter than any erotic novel could make me. No fantasy that I’ve thought up on a lonely night could measure up to the raw sexuality that Declan was forcing into me. After some powerful thrusts in the missionary position, Declan grabbed my ass and turned around so he’d be sitting up on his bed, moving his cock upwards into me. I felt as though he would tear right through me were there not a dead end to keep his penis from fucking me in half.

  Being seated on top of him, gave him a better angle to suck on my tits. He does so enthusiastically whilst also trying to make eye contact with me. He smiles and tries not to laugh when I finally look down and catch his eyes staring back at mine.

  “That’s right. Look at me when you fuck me”, I moan.r />
  Declan fucks me harder immediately after hearing me say this, and never breaks eye contact. Until the penultimate moment of our love making. He closes his eyes, throws his head back and widens his mouth into an open smile.

  “Fuck, this is it”, he says with a shaky breath. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

  I feel him beat inside of me quicker and quicker until it stops and the walls of my pussy are nearly hit by a voluminous load of his semen, blocked only by the thin layer of latex wrapped around Declan’s cock.

  He takes a break from fucking to recharge, but I stay on top of him grinding against him, moving my hips in circles around his.

  “You like that?”